


I Think I Met Her At The Minute That The Rhythm Was Set Down (I Said I'm Sorry I'm A Bit Of A Let Down)

by astraLazuli



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, DaveJade Week, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraLazuli/pseuds/astraLazuli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider joins his friends for Guys' Night Out which involves unconventional wingmanship, a lot of shouting, and copious appletinis. Oh, and he probably meets the love of his life, nbd.</p>
<p>Recommended Listening: Bored to Death by blink-182</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I Met Her At The Minute That The Rhythm Was Set Down (I Said I'm Sorry I'm A Bit Of A Let Down)

You aren’t even really sure what you’re doing in this bar, to be completely honest. It’s not the usual sort of place that you wind up in on guys’ night out. John usually drags you all to some novelty restaurant while Karkat is generally all about cheesy karaoke bars. Of course, when it’s your turn to pick, it’s always the perfectly trendy-but-not-too-trendy clubs, the sort of place that you’d love to spin if you got the chance. But this place, with its exposed brick, cramped space, and cheap sound system, didn’t really fit into any of your tastes, so what the hell were you doing here in the first place?

Well, your question was answered shortly as you looked around to see where the fuck John was with the drinks because if you were going to have to tolerate the terrible music in here, you were not going to do it sober. And sure enough, there was John, standing at the bar in all his flustered glory, nothing but awkward angles and goofy grins and poorly concealed blushes. The source of this Egbertian beflusterment was rather clearly the bartender, a tall, almost gangly woman with a thick mass of black tangles wearing a pair of single lensed sunglasses and a plethora of facial piercings. And somehow, against all logic that could be found in the world, she actually seemed to be into him, leaning over the bar with a grin that would have looked more at home on a shark. You let out a groan and roll your eyes. 

“What?” demands Karkat from next to you. 

You motion in John’s general direction. “I just found out where our drinks are.”

Karkat leans over the table to get a better look and promptly explodes. “WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK, EGBERT?! STOP CHATTING UP THE BARTENDER AND GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE.”

John looks up and smiles at the two of you sheepishly. 

You take a split second to chose between facepalming or just feeding into this horrifying situation.

“Yeah, John!” you call over, “Get that cute butt over here, it’s time for some serious quality dude on dude bonding time!”

John’s smile falters and, if possible, his face gets redder. Meanwhile, the bartender is doubled over laughing hysterically. John gathers up the drinks that have no doubt been sitting on the bar this whole time and briskly walks over. He slams the drinks down on the table before climbing onto a stool. 

“Thanks a lot for that, assholes. I think I was actually getting somewhere with her, she seemed to really like me!” 

You shrugged and take a sip of your appletini. “It’s my job as your permanent wingman to vet out all the ladies incapable of handling high levels of tomfoolery. Besides. Did you even manage to get her name?”

John opens his mouth to make some attempted snappy comeback. As if in slow motion, you see the realization hit him, his eyes widening in panic, jaw dropping, hand shooting up to slap himself in the face.

“Her name is Vriska and she’s a totally bitch,” Karkat says matter-of-factly, taking a sip from his pina colada, complete with little paper umbrella and pineapple-cherry toothpick kebob. 

John spins to face him. “She is not a bitch! Well. I don’t think she’s a bitch. And how do you know her name anyway?”

Without looking up from his drink, Karkat says, “I’ve known Vriska since we were five. We went to school together.”

John just gapes at him, mouth moving noiselessly as he searches for words. 

You smirk into your appletini and turn your head to survey the rest of the bar as John and Karkat launch into a routine shouting match. 

This bar is obviously pretty big with the college crowd judging by the rest of the customer base. You recognize a few people from campus milling around, playing darts and chugging down celebratory pints to mark the end of the semester. 

And then you see her.

Sitting in a corner booth, surrounded by chatting friends, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Warm brown skin lightly kissed with freckles, long, long dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, and her eyes, so fiercely bright behind round glasses that you can see just how green they are even being across the room in a dimly lit bar, wearing your shades. 

A sharp jab at your arm brings you back to reality. “Back me up here, Dave!” John demands. 

“I’m with Karkat on this one,” you say automatically, shifting your focus back to the conversation at hand. 

It’s John’s turn to explode, spluttering incoherently, as Karkat lets out a roarious laugh. 

The hours slink on by, the three of you getting progressively more tipsy and your conversation getting, by some strange twist of the laws of physics, louder. 

“No, you don’t understand! She’s standup lady and the future mother of my children!” John bellows.

“YER A FUCKING IDIOT JOHN, THAT GIRL IS GOING TO EAT YOU UP AND SPIT YOU BACK OUT PROBABLY MISSING A LIMB AND DEFINITELY MISSING MOST OF THE CONTENTS OF YOUR WALLET.”

Okay, so John and Karkat went well past tipsy about an hour ago and are now on the express train to absolutely fucking trashed. You’re several drinks behind them, sipping on only your third appletini compared to the veritable army of empty beer bottles and glasses that had contained progressively stronger mixed drinks that are now stationed around you tiny table. 

You snort into your glass, an eyebrow raised as you side eye John, waiting for his reaction. This backfires terribly.

“What are ya smirking about there, buddy?” John demands, turning on you with an accusatory finger jab. “You wouldn’t be laughing if we were discussin’ the girl you’ve been making googly eyes at all night.”

You almost choke on your drink. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“‘What the hell are you talkin’ about?’” Karkat mimics in a voice that sounds more like an eleven year old girl than you. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK HE’S TALKING ABOUT. IT DOESN’T TAKE A DETECTIVE TO NOTICE THAT YOU’VE BEEN STARING AT THAT GIRL WITH THE LONG HAIR SINCE WE SAT DOWN.”

“Your point being?” you ask, forcing your voice to stay even.

“His point being,” John interjects, “that if man up enough to go talk to her, I’ll go talk to Vriska again.”

“NO THE FUCKING POINT IS NOT FOR YOU TO HAVE ANOTHER EXCUSE TO TALK TO VRISKA. THE POINT IS FOR YOU TO NOT TALK TO VRISKA, HOW MANY GODDAMN TIMES DO WE HAVE TO GO OVER THIS?” Karkat shouts at him. He pauses for a moment and looks at you. “On the other hand, it is very much the point that you should go talk to that girl. In fact, I dare you to go talk to her.”

“Ooooooooooh,” John croons at you. “Now you’ve gotta go talk to her, Dave.”

“Okay, we’re twenty-two, we don’t live by the rules of the dare anymore,” you begin but are promptly cut off by John.

“That’s not what you said last week when you dared me to see how fast I could drink a gallon of milk and I ended up puking all over the apartment!” he glares at you. “Just for that, I double dog dare you to go talk to that girl!”

You glare right back at John while Karkat howls with laughter. You know damn well that you now have to go talk to her, there’s no turning back from a double dog dare. Plus, if you don’t go through with it, you’ll be giving up your main tool in making John make a total ass of himself. 

You knock back the rest of your appletini, climbing off your stool. The floor wobbles slightly under your feet, but you get your drunk legs pretty quick. Cool guys like you can’t be staggering all over the place, especially when trying to woo pretty girls.

John and Karkat hoot and holler as you walk over to the bar where that beautiful girl is standing, waiting for Vriska’s attention. You lean against the bar next to her, casual as can fucking be.

“Hey,” you manage, thankful ten times over that you’ve got your shades to hide behind.

She turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Um… Hi!” she responds awkwardly. It’s painfully clear that she’s wondering just what the hell you’re doing talking to her.

And, in a record thirty seconds, your chill completely breaks. “Look, my friends dared me to come over and talk to you,” you explain, gesturing over at Karkat and John who are now leaning dramatically over the table to watch the two of you. 

A small smile plays across her lips as she looks over at them. “A dare, huh?”

“Yeah, and a double dog dare at that.”

“No turning back on one of those, is there?”

You nod solemnly. “So you see the predicament that I’m in here. Which I hope means you can understand how much it’d mean to me if you’d let me buy you a drink and we pretend that you think that I’m the man of your dreams come to life in a dive bar for the next ten minutes.”

A broad grin spreads across her face and you just about die right there. “You’re on.” She offers a hand to you. “I’m Jade, by the way. And I’ll take a gin and tonic with a twist.”

You take her hand with one of yours and use the other to try to flag Vriska down. “Dave Strider.”

Vriska comes stomping over, drying her hand on a rather sad looking rag. “What?” she demands.

“Gin and tonic with a twist for the lady and I’ll have another appletini.”

Vriska rolls her eyes and stomps back off, digging around for glasses and shakers. 

“Appletini, eh?” Jade asks, voice more curious than judgemental.

“Elixir of the fucking gods,” you reply, digging in your pocket for your wallet. You pull out a couple of bills and slide them across the bar as Vriska comes back with your drinks. 

Before you can grab your appletini, Jade snatches it away and takes a sip. She smacks her lips lightly, looking at the drink curiously. “Hm… That’s… really yummy!” she exclaims, sneaking another sip before handing it over to you. “It’d be better if it were mandarin flavoured, though!”

“What, no, that’s ridiculous, apples are plainly the superior fruit. Hell, they’re the ultimate superior food, sitting at the top of the food pyramid on a golden throne of aj staring down at all those inferior foods like the goddamn kings among fruit that they are.” It dawns on you that you’ve started your usual nonsense rambling and you suddenly wish that you could punch yourself in the face.

But Jade just lets out a giggle and god, when she laughs, it sounds like bells ringing, and you can feel your insides slowly melt. 

“So tell me,” she says, picking up her own drink, “What’s your story?”

“I’m in my senior year working on a degree in forensic anthropology with a minor in archaeology. All about the dead stuff, y’know?” 

She peers at you expectantly from behind her gin and tonic, so you clear your throat and continue.

“Uh… I spin sometimes at local clubs. Do some original music too, but that stuff doesn’t really get to see the light of day all too often.”

Her face lights up. (Wow you are totally fucked here.) “You’ll have to let me hear some of your stuff sometime!”

“I don’t know about that…” you say hesitantly. “I don’t know that you really want to hear it. I mean, it’s fucking incredible, obviously, but it’s a bit out of its time. The world isn’t ready to hear it.”

Jade laughs again. “Oh, come on! I’ll play you some of my stuff if you let me hear some of yours!”

“You play?” you ask.

“Yeah, mostly bass! But I dabble in other instruments too!”

(Yeah, you’re fucked, this girl is just way too perfect.)

She looks back at the booth where her friends are all still sitting, craning their necks to look over at the two of you.

She hops down from her stool. “Oops, looks like I’ve got to get going! My friends look like they’re starting to get impatient.” 

Jade sets her drink down on the bar for a moment to dig around in her purse, taking out a pen. She takes your wrist (her palm and fingers are covered in calluses, but her touch is so light and gentle, nearly ghosting over your skin), pulls up your sleeve, and scrawls a chumhandle on your arm. “Hit me up sometime! We’ll get together and jam!” She stows the pen back in her purse and picks her drink up. “It was nice to meet you, man of my dreams!”

You desperately fight to keep the blush out of your cheeks and pray to all that is holy that she doesn’t notice it in this crappy lighting. “Heh, yeah, sorry I’m a bit of a let down.”

She straight up fucking beams at you. “You weren’t a let down at all!” She takes a step back to her booth, stops, turns around, and places a quick kiss on your cheek. “See you later!” And with that, she bounces back to her friends, dark hair trailing behind her.

It takes a minute for feeling to return to your body. You peer at your arm.  _ gardenGnostic _ . You let yourself smile, a small, crooked half-smile, as you tug your sleeve back down. Grabbing your drink, you head back over to your own table where Karkat is gaping and John has the biggest shit eating grin plastered across his face.


End file.
